Draco Malfoy and the Forgotten Prophesy
by alonelybird1
Summary: Draco Malfoy ran away from the Wizarding World, giving up his rich and spoiled life only to wake up in Southern California without a cent to his name. Luckily there was a certain brunette willing to help him find shelter. But did he really run away from the Wizarding World? Or had he merely brought that world to Los Angeles? SLASH.
1. Chapter 1

Title: Draco Malfoy and the Forgotten Prophesy

Summary: Draco Malfoy ran away from the Wizarding World, giving up his rich and spoiled life only to wake up in Southern California without a cent to his name. Luckily there was a certain brunette willing to help him find shelter. But did he really run away from the Wizarding World? Or had he merely brought that world to Los Angeles? SLASH.

* * *

CHAPTER ONE

* * *

"Hey?"

Draco opened his eyes blearily to see the concerned face of a brunette teenager hunched down next to him.

"You look soaked, dude. Did you take a swim in your clothes?"

The blonde boy tried to move only to have flashes of pain run through him. "No. It's just the rain."

The jock laughed uproariously. "Rain? Dude this is SoCal. Hasn't rained here in weeks."

Draco shot up quickly, his head aching from the movement. "SoCal? You mean Southern California?"

The other guy's face changed from concerned to quizzical. "Yes? Where else?"

The Malfoy heir tried to stand quickly but was immediately wracked with the aches and bruises lined under his clothes. The brunette reached out quickly to keep the blonde from falling over, the concern taking over again. "What's wrong dude? Should I be taking you to a hospital?"

Draco snorted through his own pain, wondering what kind of medieval treatment Muggles would subject him to. "No. I'm fine."

"You don't look fine. Where are you from, anyways? You sound British or something."

He sighed forlornly, already missing the green hills of his home. "I'm from Wiltshire."

The American brunette gave him his first smile, a grin as he withdrew his arms away from him, as if to make sure the blonde could remain steady. "No clue where that is."

Draco eyed the other boy up and down. They were both around the same age, around 18 years old, but the American looked slighter taller, and more built than the blonde, who, although Draco liked to think of himself as aristocratic and slight, was much shorter and thinner than most of his age. After an awkward pause, realizing that he hadn't replied to the clueless boy, Draco muttered, "About ten kilometers east of Bath."

The other teenager blinked blankly. "Nope."

The blonde rolled his eyes. "160 kilometers west of London."

"I know that one!"

Draco smiled in spite of himself. "Figured you would."

The brunette sat on the bench next to him. "Yeah. Anyways… so you look like you slept on the beach all night. Lose your hotel?"

He jolted himself around only to realize belatedly that he was on a boardwalk of some kind, right next to the beautiful sand of the Pacific coast. His jaw dropped, even as mind finally congratulated himself on his harebrained scheme actually working.

"Dude?"

He turned his attention back to the American, who was still eyeing him unsurely. He fought to kept his eyes away from the dark, piercing green irises of the other boy, muttering, "I'm fine."

"To repeat myself… You are clearly not fine. Listen. How about we text your folks or whomever you're staying with or something?"

The wizard blinked at the Muggle. "Text?"

"You know… cell phones?" The American's voice was dry and slow. "I'm sure you guys have them in Britain."

"Oh yeah…" Draco feigned comprehension, adding lamely, "I lost mine."

"Damn. Well… do you remember the name of the hotel they are staying at?"

The blonde drew into a deep blush, completely unsure about how to deal with the friendly teenager. He obviously couldn't tell the Muggle the whole truth. But it wasn't likely that he was going to meet anybody in the city that'd be more likely to help him than this random guy. He seemed like the 'helping others' type— the kind of people his father was quick to sneer at, but exactly the kind of person Draco hoped to become. Maybe if he just told this American part of the truth?

Draco took a deep breath. "I'm not… well, to tell you the truth… I'm alone here. I actually ran away from home."

The brunette's brows furrowed in sadness. "I'm so sorry to hear that. Well… welcome to Los Angeles, the city that everybody runs to when they run away. How'd you get to the States anyways?"

The Malfoy heir blushed deeply, muttering, "It's a long story."

"I'm sure it is." The brunette glanced over to the ocean momentarily, clearly lost in thought. A pang of hope ran through Draco as the other boy slowly came to a conclusion. "So you don't have anywhere to stay?"

Draco blushed deeply, realizing for the first time that he was absolutely broke and totally homeless. "No."

The other boy broke out into a smile. "Well… I can't just let you sleep here. Come on, you can crash at my place." He stood up quickly.

"Really?" Draco hesitated, wondering what the catch was. "You don't even know my name."

The American didn't even hesitate in replying. "I don't need to, dude. I'm just paying it forward. When I first showed up in LA three years ago, somebody offered me a place to stay when I didn't know anybody either."

Draco had a million questions running through his mind as the brunette helped him up, pain almost ignored. But in the end, the only thing that he could say was, "Thank you."

"No problem. Now about the injuries and such. Can I take you to a hospital?"

Draco blushed and tried to steady himself from falling over. "No. I'm… fine." He avoided the other boy's knowing look. "It's okay! It's just bruises and such. No internal bleeding."

The American eyed him carefully. "Well… okay if you say so. Alright let's get to my car. I'm parked up on Venice."

"The city?"

The brunette snorted. "No. Venice, as in Venice Boulevard and Venice Beach. You're on the beach right now." He motioned ahead towards the boardwalk, where artisans were setting up shop.

Draco followed him as the American walked down the boardwalk. He watched in silence as the American was recognized by a couple of the shopkeepers, who hailed him over so that they could laugh about some small piece of news. The brunette seemed so comfortable in his beat up tennis shoes, his loose, ill-fitted clothes, a branded, wide-brimmed hat, and skateboard in one hand. It made Draco slightly jealous for no apparent reason.

Finally, as they made their way through the crowds and the short row of bars and restaurants that were just opening up for the morning crowd, the two got to the neighborhood of small houses right behind the main strip. There, jauntily parallel-parked in the smallest possible parking spot, was a beat-up, ancient convertible with a broken top.

Draco raised a delicate eyebrow before looking to the other boy, who just hoped in without opening the door, stuffing his skateboard behind the driver's seat. "This car functions?"

"Bessie? Yeah she does! The old girl has some miles left in her," The brunette patted the dashboard affectionately before grinning to the boy. "What's your name anyways?"

"Draco," he replied, automatically, still eyeing the car uncertainly.

"Draco? Like after the constellation?"

The blonde raised his eyebrow again. "How do you—"

The brunette blushed. "I can be a dork sometimes. Now are you getting in or not?"

The blonde hesitated but decided to get in the car, hoping and praying the ancient car wouldn't blow up on him. After a moment, as the brunette turned the car on, the blonde turned and stated flatly. "I've told you my name but you haven't mentioned yours yet."

"True. That's unfair I guess." The brunette smiled broadly. "I'm Harry." He extended his hand, which Draco took after a slight pause. "Now let's get going, Dragon-boy."

* * *

Author's Note. I live in Los Angeles and, like young Draco, I moved here after running away from my home. I've since fallen in love with the city and the boy who saved me from the streets, my current partner of five years, so I decided to write this story in part to commemorate this city and some of the magical places that I've explored with the man I love.

Anyways! Let me know what you think about this story as a concept. This is one of the few stories that I don't have a real solid structure for. The basic plot is skeletal but changeable, so any input on what you think should befall our boys would be greatly appreciated.


	2. Chapter 2

CHAPTER TWO

* * *

The ride was mostly silent as Harry fiddled with the dilapidated radio buttons, apparently in an attempt to cover the blonde's silence with with music.

Draco wasn't bothered by it, allowing a slight underscore of awkwardness to fall between them. It was natural after all— they had only known each other for about half an hour and Harry had already invited the other guy into his home.

So instead of trying to even focus on the pop music on the radio, Draco soaked in the landscape. The morning had already broken into an impossibly blue sky that stretched and encompassed the whole of the horizon and seemingly more, without a single cloud or blemish. The sea had long been swallowed up by the city, with only the crisp sea air to belie the appearance of a city.

Off in the distance, instead of a downtown skyline that dominated most cities, Draco only saw green hills with white houses that seemed like they were built into the hillside. Closer to them were a swarm of conflicting scenes— palm trees stuck jauntily inside narrow sidewalks, dilapidated Spanish-style apartment buildings next to trendy little shops. Yet beyond the beautiful sky, the distant hills, the ocean air, and the miscellany of cultures imbued in the very buildings that dotted the city, there was an energy that Draco couldn't even begin to describe.

It was, in a word, incredible. With the Muggle music blasting on the radio, the shield of blue above him, and the promise of a foreign city opening up to him, Draco Malfoy felt more alive than he had ever felt.

Harry seemed to notice this, because he grinned and asked, "First time to LA?"

"Yeah."

"Well, what do you think so far?"

"It's beautiful."

"Better than London? Or… Bath?"

Draco snorted, thinking of the antique halls of Malfoy Manor, the worn, downtrodden stones of Hogwarts, and the weird jumble of outmoded shops of Diagon Alley. "Much better."

The other boy laughed uproariously and kept driving, deeper into the city.

"Where are we going?"

"Where I live. Nearby the Grove."

"The Grove?"

"Oops, sorry. Um… it's like a shopping center. Don't let the name fool you. There's barely a tree in sight. But I like living near it. The Farmer's Market has the best food!" Harry grinned openly, gentling bobbing his head to the trendy music.

Draco smiled politely, trying purposefully to rid himself of the emotional walls that his father had beaten into him over the course of his childhood.

"So… why'd you run away?"

The blonde's attempt at a smile immediately dissipated as he grew uncomfortable, the walls immediately rising even in spite of himself.

Harry seemed to notice this and he immediately splayed his hands on the driver's wheel. "I'm sorry, dude. I didn't mean…"

Draco shrugged, trying to downplay it. "It's okay… It's just… It's still hard to process."

The blonde glanced over to see the other boy nodded understandingly. Yet how much could Harry understand about it? There was so much he wanted to learn about the other boy, least of which was why exactly this guy would invite a stranger into his home so quickly. Still, he knew that such an exchange of information would have to reciprocal, so he swallowed his own questions and just tried to take in as much of the city as possible.

They drove through a couple residential areas before finally arriving to a tall apartment complex. Harry parked Bessie in a tiny parking space before climbing out of the car. The blonde followed him numbingly, darting his head around everywhere to try absorb the landscape around him. Harry darted up a series of stairs quickly, only waiting briefly for Draco to follow him. Then, after a short walk down the hall, Harry opened up his apartment.

The first thing Draco noticed was how bare it was. The ceilings, floors, and walls had been gutted to the supports, brick, and concrete. None of the sparse decorations and furniture pieces looked like they belonged in the same building together, much less in the same room. Draco was still in the process of registering the furniture before he realized that there were other people in the apartment.

There was a guy and a girl sitting on the misshapen couch, leaning on each other sipping orange juice out of plastic cups. Both were tall, thin, black, and in their early-20s, staring curiously at Harry.

"Hey Harry! Who's he?"

Harry opened his mouth to explain before he was interrupted by a large hispanic woman in her 50s, wielding a wooden spoon, cursing in Spanish before pointing to Harry menacingly, "Don't tell me you brought another stray?"

The brunette's face turned sheepish as he looked down, saying, "Perdon, abuela. He was sleeping on the beach! I couldn't just…"

The woman approached Draco, who desperately tried to back up before the woman grabbed his wrist and poked him in the stomach hard. After a moment, she pulled herself up to an intimidating level before breaking down into a huge sob and squeezing Draco into a gripping hug, the spoon whacking him on the back of his head. The woman then starting shaking the blonde at his arms, remarking to Harry, "Que bonito! But he needs to eat he's too skinny! I'll crack more eggs for the rancheros."

Tara pulled away from the blonde with another look before bustling back to the kitchen, cursing alternatively in Spanish and English, all while waving her spoon around.

The two on the couch and Harry shared a knowing look while smiling, before Harry stepped forward and introduced them. "This is JC and Jonna. Girls, this is Draco. He's from Britain!"

His roommates burst out excitedly before running over to give him a large three-way hug before pulling back, examining every inch of him, and asking him a million questions before answering each other alternatively.

"Britain?—"

"—Girl how vogue. Do you know the Queen?—"

"—Please! You ask everybody from Britain that. Do you have an accent?—"

"—Of course he has an accent! Harry still hasn't lost that Southern twang—"

"—Psssh. British boys accents are hotter—"

"—Way hotter—"

"—And that white hair! Oh my god what I wouldn't give—"

"—You've got to use a product. Who…"

Harry finally broke them away from the blonde, laughing uproariously as he said mock warningly "Hey! Let him breathe a second!"

Draco blinked, trying to regain his composure, but felt a large blush crawling up his cheeks. The brunette noticed and guided the blonde to a misshapen plush chair next to the misshapen couch.

The three of them sat down, with Harry sitting further away. JC pushed his orange juice drink into his hands with a flamboyant wink. "So Draco. That's such a cool name. What's your real name?"

"That is my real name?" Draco asked almost hesitantly as he blushed even further in spite of himself. He could hear his father berating him for not controlling himself more.

"Damn boy! British parents must be way cooler than Americans then. What are you in LA for?"

The blonde shrugged and stared at the plastic cup in his hands, "I don't know. Just thought it'd be a good place to… start over."

"Girl yes!" Jonna clapped her hands and poured more orange juice for JC. "Same here."

Draco felt a smile grow on his face as they talked to each other, so he hid it with a sip from his cup, before coughing suddenly.

The three of them stopped talking and immediately burst out laughing at the blonde.

Draco looked at the cup suspiciously. "What is in this?"

Harry smirked knowingly, grabbing Jonna's drink and taking a huge sip of it before nodding to the cup. "It's abuela's breakfast version of a screwdriver. Orange juice and tequila."

Draco raised his eyebrows but took another, smaller sip more tentatively. It burned down his throat but he mentally ignored it. Might as well get buzzed after what had happened yesterday night.

"So, Draco." Jonna whispered into JC's ear before she leaned forward and asked, "Gay or straight?"

Draco coughed up his drink again, a blush fully returning to his cheeks. "What?"

JT glared at his friend and elbowed her. "You don't have to answer. She just has a bet with me… that everybody who uses hair gel is just a little bit… not straight. But ignore her. She's just being nosey and nosey!"

Draco felt his mind overloaded. The wizarding world was just nowhere near that point of being open enough to even acknowledging that gay wizards existed, much less openly and casually talked about. Did Muggles accept homosexuals?

Jonna sensed his shock and leaned even more. "Oh honey you don't have to answer! That's a wildly personal question."

JC poked her again. "Like I said, nosey! But it's okay if you're straight. Jonna and I are used to being the only gays in the house."

"GAY?!" Jonna pouted indignantly. "I'm not gay anymore bitches, I'm straight!"

"Girl please you like the dick better than anybody."

"Yeah but I'm a real girl now. So technically… I'm straight."

JC rolled his eyes, still smiling. "Okay fine. Then I'm the only queer in the house yay me."

Draco knew his face resembled a gaping fish but he couldn't help it. The wizarding world didn't even have a name for people like Jonna. Sure, there had been mocking stories of wizards wearing female robes, but Draco had never even considered the possibility that Muggles would be more accepting of other people, much less openly talk about it.

Once again Harry seemed to sense his discomfort and took off his hat, asking quietly, "Guys let's talk about something else. This is making him uncomfortable."

Jonna and JC stopped awkwardly, apologizing to Draco, who just shook it off, saying, "I'm sorry it's not you. I just… I'm from a very conservative family. I've never met…"

Both of them nodded in comprehension. JC poured the blonde more tequila orange juice. "Okay sorry boo. I guess we are just too used to LA people, you know? We forget that people grew up like you and Harry."

Jonna put a hand on Harry's thigh. "Harry here grew up in a really conservative place too. A foster home in Texas. Too many kids and no money. And they weren't exactly nice. Let's just say Los Angeles must be heaven compared to that hellhole."

Harry ran a hand through his hair uncomfortably. "It's okay. I'm sure Draco understands. He doesn't look like he came from money either."

Draco felt a rush of shame run through him, forcing him to blurt out an omission. "Actually, no. I grew up in a manor."

JC almost dropped his cup. "Like for real? A manor, manor? Like one on the TV with servants and everything?"

The blonde sank into his seat, ashamed of his family's wealth while sitting in their home. He nodded.

Harry shrugged in response and nudged JC with a look. "Just because it's nice doesn't make it a nice place to live."

They all looked uncomfortably at each other before Jonna segued awkwardly to a new topic. "So… Draco! What's your last name?"

"Malfoy."

"Malfoy! That's a strong name. I was born as Jim Irons but can you even imagine how horrible that name is? So now I'm Jonna Delasour!"

Draco smiled at her enthusiasm. "It's a good name, Jonna Delasour." He added a french inflection on the name and she melted.

"Oh! It sounds so much better when you say it! Say JC's name! It's even more French!"

"What is it?"

"Jean-Claude Bouchard."

Draco smirked and put on his thickest French accent. "Jean-Claude Bouchard, mon ami."

JC melted in his seat. "Oh god it sounds so much better! I should just record you saying it whenever I introduce myself." He clapped his hands together. "I don't know about about you though, Harry. Your name is way too… American to be French."

Draco blinked, curious. "What's your surname, Harry?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Nothing special. It's about as basic and American-English as you can get. It's Potter."

Jonna laughed and put on a mock French accent, "Harry Potter!"

The blood rushed from Draco's face as he felt his jaw drop. Even more blood rushed from his face as he instinctively darted to the boy's forehead, where signs of a lightening bolt scar shown through the boys bangs now that his hat was off.

* * *

Author's Note. I was going to post stuff this weekend and the weekend before it, but I had Beyond Wonderland and then a birthday party. BW was so amazing! If you have never done an EDM concert you're wrong. Go. It's the most magic us Muggles can ever experience.

sierrafujoshiakut: Thanks for the review! It'll be AU, but only just. Let's just say that it's much more canon than I think most people will think. KShara Khan: I appreciate the feedback! I'm booking them at both being 18. floosister: I'm posting more just on your name alone! cookyc: I hope you enjoyed this bit too. Let me know! helix777: Thank you for posting on both my stories I'm glad you liked both!


	3. Chapter 3

CHAPTER THREE

* * *

Draco found himself sitting at a shaky, cramped, plastic table, next to trans woman, a gay man, and the savior of the wizarding world, while a Latina grandmother wielding a dangerous wooden spoon lorded over them, passing huge plates filled with greasy, incredibly wonderful food. The LA breeze and rays of the summer sun flew through in through all of the open windows. Music from JC's Muggle electronic instrument rang through the apartment. It was a surreal feeling that he couldn't describe.

As he was passing one of the platters to Jonna, he felt a shiver run through him as he realized what it was that he was feeling. This was the first meal he had ever eaten that was cooked by a human.

"Everything okay, Draco?"

The blonde had to shake himself out, passing the dish to Harry Potter. The brunette smiled appreciatively before adjusting the hat on his head that covered his infamous scar. Draco had to force his eyes away from the boy, to the plate that somehow astounded him just as much as the Boy-Who-Lived.

He knew on an instinctual level that most humans, including many wizards, cooked their own meals. But to know that someone like the matronly Latina woman poured time, experience, and her very hands into making that meal somehow almost overwhelmed him. And yet Draco felt more at ease sitting at that table eating that meal than he had ever felt sitting at the enormous magical dining table of Malfoy Manor.

It was also surreal to know that the Boy-Who-Lived was sitting next to him, casual as the moment he met him, as if there wasn't a war fully erupted in Europe and as if the brunette wasn't the most famous wizard to have ever been born.

Once again he had to pull himself back into the moment to try and listen to Jonna and JC talk about their jobs and standing in line for casting calls, whatever those were. The Muggle terms and local places flew over Draco's thoughts, as he immersed himself back into thinking about Harry Potter.

Did he know he was a wizard? Harry had given zero indication that he was a wizard when they met, although why would he? He didn't know Draco was a wizard. Should Draco bring it up? Maybe Harry was hiding here, running away from being the role of a wizard hero to be a normal person. Wasn't the fame (or in his case, his family's infamy) one of the reasons Draco had run away too? There was something so incredibly beautiful about Harry Potter being here in Los Angeles. What was it that he had said? 'Los Angeles: the city that everybody runs to when they run away.'

"—what do you say Draco? Wanna come with?"

Draco blinked, cursing inwardly at himself for not keeping up with what they were saying. All three of his peers were smiling devilishly at him. "I'm sorry?"

Harry's grin grew. "Do you wanna come to the concert tomorrow? It's in San Bernardino."

"Oh. Um. Yes." Draco pictured the wizard band concerts and imagined that they'd be similar. "Sounds like fun." The blonde tried to convince himself that he believed it, even apprehensively. But it wasn't like he had anything better to do. And if Harry Potter wanted to do it, maybe it wouldn't be so terrible.

* * *

By the time breakfast was done, the afternoon had already arrived. Draco watched as Harry changed into his work uniform. Apparently he worked at a minimum wage store down the street.

"Are you sure you're going to be okay?" The brunette exchanged a careful look to the blonde. "My shift is only five hours today."

The blonde stood squarely in Harry's room, which was just as jumbled as the rest of the apartment. "Of course."

"Maybe you should get a lay of the land. The Grove is not far, and there are streets filled with different shops, vintage crap, and other fun stuff. Some places in this part of town can be tourist shopping traps but… lot's of good food! And it's just a fun place to people-watch and stuff."

The blonde snorted, scorning the mere idea it being entertain to watch plebeian Muggles as they shopped. But as soon as he thought that thought, he shook himself. That was exactly the kind of thinking he had ran away from. Draco sighed. "Which way is the Grove?"

Harry smiled and pointed down the road outside the window. "That way! You'll know it when you see it. Also the huge signs."

Draco smirked and put his hands in his pockets in a way he hoped looked casual. But for some reason he felt apprehensive about Harry vanishing for five hours. The brunette had become a talisman, protecting the blonde from the rest of Los Angeles. The city seemed suddenly overwhelming when he was faced with the idea of being without the other boy's calming presence.

The Boy-Who-Lived seemed to sense this and quietly said, "You can ask JC and Jonna to join you, if you want. You might have noticed that they are super friendly."

He shrugged in response, not meeting the brunette's eyes. Then the air in the room shifted and Draco could sense Harry averting his eyes away. Harry sucked in his breath, as if he was about to ask something difficult. After a long pause, Harry finally said, "I noticed, you know."

Draco shot his eyes up. "What?"

Harry pointed to his hat morosely, his shoulders slumping minutely. "You aren't the first person who has stared at it. So many people notice it. All the time. It's one of the reasons I wear hats a lot. But... you're the first person I've ever really actually talked to who… stared like you did, you know? Can you…" The brunette struggled to find the right words, but there was an earnest kind of desperation behind his voice.

Draco felt his father's emotionless walls rise through him as he tried not to betray what he was thinking. He knew right then and there that the Boy-Who-Lived had no idea that any of it existed. Magic. Unicorns. Hogwarts. The Dark Lord. His parents. His own legend. Harry Potter hadn't run away from the wizard world. He had never known that world had existed.

Harry took a step forward, his sadness giving way to desperation as he locked eyes with the blonde. "You know, don't you? You know something about how my parents died, don't you?"

Draco automatically took a step back, his eyes fixed with alarm. How did Harry know to make that leap? Was it even his place to tell the boy about those things, to change his entire world over?

The brunette shouldered his backpack and shook himself out, self-hatred radiating off the boy. "Fuck it. I don't know. I don't even know what the hell I'm asking. I'm sorry for being such a weirdo. See you tonight after I get off work?"

Draco tried to release the tension that had been building in his back. "Yeah, sure."

Harry flashed a smile and darted through the door, leaving the blonde alone in a city full of Muggles.

* * *

Draco walked to the Grove alone, after insisting dozens of times to his new roommates that he would be fine. He needed to be alone after that conversation with Harry, the wizard who didn't know about the world he had changed forever.

The blonde felt himself choke up in emotions thinking about the implications of what that meant. That meant that Harry Potter didn't know how his parents had died. He had probably been fed some idiotic Muggle story. Maybe he had run away or maybe he had been kidnapped, only to be trapped in various foster homes and orphanages. In the end, it really didn't matter— all that mattered was that Harry Potter, Savior of the Wizarding World, had found himself in Los Angeles, a city filled with hopefuls wanting a new life.

As Draco stared at the various tourist and local families wandering the shopping district, he realized the immensity of how impossible it was that Harry Potter had stumbled on Draco Malfoy on that beach that morning. Out of all the places in the second largest city in the United States, Draco happened to arrive in Los Angeles on that very bench that Harry Potter walked past and decided to stop by on that same morning. It was the clear guide of the magical forces at play. But to what end?

Was Draco destined to tear the blindfold from Harry's eyes? So many in Britain thought that only the return of Harry Potter would bring a final end to the resurrected Dark Lord. Or was Harry destined to put the blindfold on Draco, so that the two most powerful British surnames would vanish into Muggle obscurity as Europe destroyed itself?

Draco sighed, running a hand through his hair. He had run away from the war. The last thing he wanted to do was go back, or drag Harry into that cesspool of violence and death. Maybe it was best to let himself forget what Harry had done as an infant. It wasn't like history was destined to repeat himself, and that Harry was the only person on the planet who could defeat the Dark Lord. Dumbledore was still…

The blonde closed his eyes as hard as he could and willed the thoughts away. Harry Potter looked happy in Los Angeles. He looked as carefree as he could sitting at that kitchen table, eating his abuela's breakfasts. That was the only magic Harry needed. Draco wouldn't ruin that, if not for the brunette's happiness, then for the potential of Draco to live like that— happy.

* * *

Author's Note. Qwertyuiop: Yep! That's what I meant. But I hope I play it well in this story, so make an account and let me know how you think it goes as it progresses! Da Kumquat: I'm not sure what you mean by that review but hopefully you'll let me know. If it's my portrayal of gay characters, I based my gay/trans characters off of my friends with their permission. LGBTQ persons come in all stripes and flavors— flamboyant and reserved, conforming and non-conforming, beautifully stereotypical and non-stereotypical. helix777: I'm going to post more regularly. I have lots of chapters in my other story, but I'm at a huge roadblock that I'm trying to get through. Updates in both stories will be forthcoming.


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